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Notes: This fic is not going to be for everyone full stop. It deals pretty heavily with forgiving an abuser. I recognize that’s not going to be for everyone. If that’s not the case, this is not the fic for you and best of luck.
More notes at the end of the chapter.
---
I'm proud of who I am
No more monsters, I can breathe again
And you said that I was done
Well, you were wrong and now the best is yet to come
'Cause I can make it on my own, oh
And I don't need you, I found a strength I've never known
I'll bring thunder, I'll bring rain, oh
When I'm finished, they won't even know your name
Praying (Kesha)
Aziraphale 'Ezra' Fell did not want to meet his brother. He would have been perfectly happy never seeing Gabriel Fell, Attorney at Law, New York District Attorney was a howling jackass and whenever he brought him up in front of his husband Crowley Fell, the other man would launch into a tirade in front of anyone that would curl hair and made one woman actually clutch her child’s ears and glare at them.
So finally when the mailman had sent him a registered letter that he had to sign for he had been tempted to burn it. Whatever his was it was important. Maybe their shitty excuse for a mother had died. Maybe Gabriel had been deposed from the family empire by Michael (who was just as bad but also didn’t give a shit about Ezra in general. so.)
The letter was terse and to the point.
Aziraphale.
You blocked me on every fucking social media platform so I need to do this in person. Can you meet me at [INSERT ADDRESS] at 930 tonight?
I know you won’t and your husband may stop you. Here’s a check for a thousand dollars. 10 minutes. Please.
This is important.
Gabriel.
He wanted to burn the check. Burn the letter and go back to reading his book.
Yet here he was, in an Uber, staring up at the fanciest hole in the wall masquerading as a dive bar that he’d ever seen in his life. It was sandwiched in between two apartment buildings. Thankfully Gabriel’s apartment wasn’t on this block. It was on a different overly gentrified block filled with the kind of beautiful people that Gabriel belonged with. He was happy with Crowley’s dysfunctional down to earth family. Living above Manhattan on some kind of cloud was bullshit.
Yet he was here. The uber driver stared at him.
“I’m going to start charging you if you don’t get out.” The driver was a young blond person, shirt cropped hair dyed pink on one side, “I have fares man. C’mon. Who are you meeting? A boyfriend? Girlfriend?”
“My brother.” Aziraphale pulled on his bowtie nervously, “I can’t stand him. He tried to have me arrested.”
The uber driver offered a low whistle in response.
That had been Gabriel’s entirely reasonable response to his youngest brother’s marrying a man. Falling in love with a man, having been in love with a man since childhood practically. Try and have him arrested for negligent rent payments. Then trying to get his bookshop closed. He could have taken it to court as well but the betrayal - the utter betrayal of the city’s fucking prosecutor personally abusing his power to attack him-
”He should have been disbarred. I told you. He should have fucking been disbarred.” Crowley spooned hot chocolate into his cup, “...That fucker. You know what Beelze said? They said he was right. I was about ready to kick the shit out of them.”
“How did you solve that?”
Crowley shrugged and poured in marshmallows to his cocoa, “My family solves everything by beating the shit out of each other. We learned it from our dad. It doesn’t change that your mom was 100% wrong to step in. You take your licks and keep on ticking or something. Still.” He glowered, angry and hurt, “She shouldn’t have fucking done that.”
“That’s between her and Gabriel.” Aziraphale sighed, half in memory and half up at the building he was about to enter.
“...I don’t want anything to do with it.”
“That’s nice.” The Uber driver pointed, “Get the fuck out of my car man. I don’t care if you give me a bad rating. I have fares and I want to go home.” he stared at the driver, short blond hair sticking up in all directions, profoundly frustrated.
One of the things that Aziraphale ‘Ezra’ Fell had learned living high above the city was that life was a series of bubbles that bounced off one another. People moved and shifted and when the bubbles intersected that was where conflict arouse. He had learned to keep his bubbles split from others, to never let anyone in. There was no way that something so caustic could be healthy, that damage - collisions - could be healing.
Their bubbles touched. The driver glaring at him to get the fuck out of their car.
He rated them 5 stars, stepped out onto the pavement and closed his eyes trying to calm down. Gabriel. Gabriel. Gabriel.
Gabriel Fell, District Attorney, Gabriel Fell, cited by the city bar, Gabriel Fell, monster pretending to angelic dealings. Gabriel Fell, his oldest brother.
---
Aziraphale loved his siblings.
It was a familial love but also a desire for love. Human beings are made for boundless love like the creatures that inspired them. In another life and another place, he would have been a literal creature made to spread it. In this one, he was simply a boy who had two sisters and two brothers.
(both of these sisters would later insist they were simply his siblings, which was fine. His younger brother sandy would insist he was also a sibling but Gabriel-)
Gabriel was his brother. He wasn’t the best brother but he told him about Santa Claus and he told him about superheroes and he shared his superhero comics right up until 7 when Gabriel was taken into his mother’s study and became the family pet. It had happened rather suddenly and the other siblings amongst the Fell children had been very concerned. One moment he was there, the next he was sitting beside his mother at dinner and spent more time with the parents. The oldest son. He was being groomed.
This was Sandy who told him.
You see, Gabriel? And Michael to a certain extent. They’re the oldest. So they’re gonna go and mom’s gonna dump a fuckton of money into them. Like show ponies. Remember when we went to the country club and Gabriel got a pony? Sandy related this all in a calm dead voice, the sort of voice humans cultivate to process the pain of living. The one you cried about because you wanted one.
Yes. It had been a source of great sadness because Gabriel would not let Aziraphale near gunpowder. After declaring gunpowder was a stupid name anyway and Gabriel yelling he hadn’t named it he wouldn’t dare presume to do something against mother - he had sworn off horses. The others had made fun of it but it was a stupid right of passage anyway.
So Gabe and Michael are gonna be show ponies. They’re gonna get the best stuff and Mom’s gonna lean on them cause they’re gonna take over the family business.
“...Sandy the family business is being attorneys.”
Some of the richest attorneys in New York City. Sandy had raised a hand, I saw this guy once on the subway. He was painting all these horses in paddocks. They had pearls and suits and jackest and looked kinda like mom and dad and Gabriel-
(Not Gabe. Never Gabe again unless you wanted him to glare at you furiously.)
Just a bunch of ponies in suits. Been thinking about that a lot lately.
Aziraphale knew that Sandalphon and Uriel had gone into business together starting a defense firm that took very rich people to court and worked pro-bono on cases for very poor people. He knew that they marched in protests and advocated for the lower class. He did not acknowledge, or perhaps did not want to acknowledge, that they might have been doing so for not so pure reasons.
Gabriel stopped being his brother. That was when it started. With gunpowder. With war. With being groomed to show off and make their mother look good. He barely remembered comic books and Santa Claus. When he was 8 years old Gabriel told him that Santa Claus was an idea to hide Christian charity. He wasn’t real and mother bought the gifts and he should thank her. Aziraphale had cried bitter tears.
---
The bar was less a bar and more a faux Italian hideaway. It looked fashionably rotted, delicate painting pretending to be peeling walls, fake flowers growing out of rocks. The whole thing was one glorified Disneyland facade and Aziraphale hated it instantly. He hated the people - people he’d grown up with - oozing about like brightly colored slugs. Amid them were a few birds, preening and strutting and waving around phones. He saw a movie star pass by and didn’t bat an eye, her feathers fluttering in the breeze.
Gabriel was a drooping pigeon amid all the other birds. Sitting at a table he sat - rigid - and rose. The two brothers regarded each other and Aziraphale was glad he couldn’t see his older brother’s expression because he was profoundly angry and very sure he would have attacked him and then where would he be?
Unless that was a ploy. Unless this whole thing was a stupid fucking ploy so he would attack him, so he would murder him. No one would blame him. He had good looks and charm and-
Make it quick. If Crowley had found out he was doing this he would have screamed at him. Thrown things. Begged him not to go, and then gone himself and probably killed the man smiling painfully fake at him.
Shit. Aziraphale ignored the hand that was reaching out for him and sat, determined to take control of the situation. Inside he shook, his insides twisting in his stomach. He wished he’d eaten something. He stepped closer into the room and ignored how he was already straightening and unconsciously aware of his posture and his attitude and looking down at everyone -
Gabriel pulled a seat out from the table.
“...You uh-you want a drink? This place serves really good-”
“Let’s make this quick.” Aziraphale held up a hand, “I don’t want to drink with you. You sent me a thousand dollars for 10 minutes of my time. I decided that. I decided it.” His voice choked with emotion, “... Not you. For fucking once not you. So. 10 minutes. Your 10 minutes started the second Is at down.”
“10 minutes?” Gabriel blanched, “10-this isn’t fair-you’re my brother.” he stepped back and pulled nervously on his tie. It was a tic he’d noticed. His brother pulled at parts of himself when he was anxious. Like he wanted to break free or escape or pull away from something he didn’t understand.
You made me cry for most of my childhood. “You’re at 9 minutes now Gabriel.”
“I practically fucking raised you!” No more nerves. Now there was just anger. A waiter turned and stared at them, a family celebrating some sort of birthday also turned, a girl and boy dressed as they had been dressed in childhood stared blankly, “I was - we’re family!”
You tried to throw me in jail because I fell in love.
“8 minutes and 30 seconds.” He could hear the tremor in his voice. Sweat beaded down the small of his back and he tried to think of Crowley. He tried to think of how he always smelled like flowers. He tried to think of how he liked to stroke his hair. The tremor subsided, “You want 10 more minutes. Another thousand dollars. I’m being generous.”
Gabriel sat back, stunned. Staring at his hands his face curled into a snarl as he stared in his brother’s direction. Then. Surprisingly. It subsided.
It actually subsided. The attorney who had sworn he’d burn in hell looked calm. Or at least as calm as he could. He never really had a temper. he was just a quiet and subtle manipulator.
“...I am running for Mayor.” Gabriel’s voice was stiff, “It was important you know. I won’t involve you in the campaign but you...you deserve to know. They won’t involve you either I plan-” he pasued, “I plan to be forthright with everyone about the...incident and-”
“The incident where you tried to have me arrested? For fucking being gay-!” Aziraphale kept his voice at a proper hiss but Gabriel - Gabriel was a pile of nervous energy. Pulling on himself again like an animal pulling on a leash. Like something was bubbling to the surface and he-
“YES!” Gabriel stood up, hands slammed on the table. The family gave them dirty looks and the District Attorney sat back down, “Yes. I was wrong. I was wrong and I have very real reason to want to improve and I’m sorry. I know you hate me, and I-” he sat back down heavy hearted, “I will never be able to tell you how sorry I am. Words are empty for this kind of fucking thing okay?!”
Silence hung between the two of them. Deeper into the restaurant someone poured water. The higher powers in the universe paused their machinations. Life is inherently made for destruction because perhaps without destruction creation is not possible. A womb needs to be destroyed in order for life to exist. Or perhaps it’s nothing important.
Aziraphale reflected then that the very idea of family was profoundly fucked up. You get strangers into a room together. You put two people who know everything in charge of a bunch of people who know nothing. You tell them to make something of what they’ve created, these beings who are wholly dependent on their knowledge. If they are hurt or in pain, if they suffer, the beings suffer.
This co-existed with the idea that family could be wonderful. That these two beings who bore children could be totally fine. They could raise successful responsible children who would face other problems in life. Or that children who were the fault of shitty irresponsible parents could find love, find family, find something that mattered to them and truly find that golden concept that God had created. A hearth, a home, happiness.
He was not a religious man like his brother. If he believed it was in the goodness and kindness of day to day actions. He had to think and take each moment as it came. Looking at Gabriel mired in misery he created for himself he felt a stab of pity and wondered if God knew enough about family to understand the concept. Damn it Aziraphale Fell, Ezra Fell sat back down and did his best to think of Crowley and how badly he wanted him to be by his side.
Gabriel’s head drooped, “...I want to improve. I know you hate me but I will always love you and I am sorry. The best thing I can do is stay out of your life as much as I can but this - you had to know.”
One thing about this caught Aziraphale’s attention. The best thing I can do is stay out of your life as much as I can. and the second I want to improve.
Aziraphale had a therapist. There was not a single human being who did not have a therapist in this day and age. Inevitably there comes the moment where the therapist asks the patient about how they feel and the patient says I am fucking furious and I want to stop loving them but I can’t. Or something along those lines. It’s the same for everyone but Aziraphale was not a therapist, he was simply a person confronting the idea of being able to love someone who was capable of doing him deep irrational harm who he had adored.
He had never learned how to articulate a proper apology (Crowley could have taught him that) but hand in hand with his husband he had learned that he had to make changes to adjust his bubble to Crowley’s bubble the same way Crowley made changes to his bubble. The two mixed and made beautiful colors but it started with I need to improve and I am sorry.
The idea of Gabriel not ever talking to him again was also appealing. The wound of not having a blood family was gradually healing over but the idea.
I want to improve.
I want to improve
“...Why?”
Gabriel had stopped being his brother and unlike his other four siblings Aziraphale had never learned the tells to manipulate him. He was carved from marble and ice cold material and apart from knowing the difference between his brother having a temper and his brother being panicstricken he did not know him at all. Aziraphale stared at the man across the table as a waiter approached with a stoic expression, braver than most of the patrons who had vacated the tables around them.
“Are you still holding to your ten minute rule?” Gabriel pulled out a checkbook in a fluid nasty motion, like he was slapping down court motions or dramatically ending lives. He scribbled something and passed it over to Aziraphale, “Here’s another thousand. I just. I need to talk okay? Please.”
The waiter whistled then and Gabriel looked up sharply, “You want to get me a fucking drink instead of running your damn mouth?”
Aziraphale sat frozen and stared at it before staring at his brother, “...Why do you want to improve?”
Gabriel’s throat worked. It was something within him working to get out, Aziraphale realized. Something curled in his chest and clawing at his skin. His handsome and charming and overwhelmingly dangerous brother looked like he was fighting some inner demon and burden and as much as Aziraphale desperately wanted to not care-
“I’m seeing someone. And they think that...that I should - apologize because-” the words tumbled out and Gabriel shook, “Because I-I was a hypocrite and they are- I love them and I wanted to please them but then I - I -” Something had broken inside of him and his brother let out a desperate angry sob as he put his head into his hands and sobbed again. Long loud sobs that made the other patrons stare at Aziraphale like he was wrong and-
“This is so manipulative it’s disgusting.” There. That was the good anger. He sounded strong and he felt something good, “Making me out to look like the bad guy after you drop that bombshell on me? You’re worse than I thought. Keep your blood money.” He shoved the check back at him and rose, walking quickly to the door.
This was a mistake. This whole thing had been a goddamn mistake. His footsteps quickened and he heard his brother call out after him but he ignored him. Out the door, down the street, call an Uber, pray to god he didn’t get the last damn driver-
“It’s Crowley’s Sibling!”
The words rang through the crowded street and Aziraphale froze.
Crowley Morningstar’s sibling. Beelze. It was amazing how such a dysfunctional family could seem so healthy compared to all of theirs. Beelze. Like some sort of twisted dark mirror to Gabriel’s good natured looks. Smart, successful, had shown up to defend Crowley with a hiss - but shown up to defend him all the same. Smart, slick, successful - he should have asked Crowley - he had mentioned them - he had promised to never see them again. Beelze morningstar. Beelze Morningstar-
He hit Gabriel.
Fist connected with cheek and nose with a satisfying crack. His brother staggered backward and someone distantly screamed. God himself could have appeared to pull the two of them apart and it wouldn’t have mattered because-
Gabriel hit him in the gut and dragged him into a headlock. He hit him in the ear and the other man staggered back. The rest was only blows. Hits and kicks and punches in a flurry of attacks that made Aziraphale feel triumphant right until the police officers pulled them apart. Officers Device and Pulsifer had exchanged glances as Gabriel gave them some kind of bullshit story, blood spurting from his nose as he coughed and spattered into his hand.
“...Well. That’ll look good in court on Monday.” He sniffed, “...Fuck. You broke it.”
“...You had no right to date them.” Aziraphale bleated. Somehow in their fight they had ended up on a central park bench with Gabriel dabbing at his nose and Aziraphale reeling because as much as he wanted Gabriel to never be a part of his life again if he was connected to Crowley-
Beelze Morningstar
What a fucking pair.
“You don’t get to choose who you care for.” Gabriel snapped, “You really don’t. Listen Aziraphale-”
“No you listen!” Aziraphale was crying now, “You listen! You made my life, a living goddamn hell and you come back with this. This bombshell. This bullshit. How can you claim to want to improve and stay out of my life if you’re dating my husband’s sibling?!”
“I did not ask to love them.” Gabriel’s voice was ice cold and deadly. The temperature of the park dropped, “I get that you are on a fucking sanctimonious high horse right now but I did not ask to love them and I will not apologize for doing so. Nor should I have to.” Gabriel’s venom dripped across the bench, “...You taught me that. It’s in the court document. And I didn’t listen. And I am sorry.”
He snorted and winced, “...Christ. You really fucking broke my nose.”
“Good.” Aziraphale whimpered, “Good you deserve it you bastard. You thrice damned bastard I used to pray for you even though I had forgotten how but this-this-” He swallowed, “...This isn’t fair.” His lip trembled, “This is worse than when you told me santa claus wasn’t real.”
Gabriel dragged a hand over his eyes and his nose and pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket - only to not find one there. Staring at the lack of it Aziraphale watched tears well in his brother’s eyes before he pulled his own out of his pocket and swallowed hard - passing it over to him.
“...You know what this means right?”
Gabriel was too busy wiping at his face and nose, trying to solve the problem of breathing. Aziraphale watched the sun begin to drop in the sky.
“Like. I get to say it it? Or do you want to?” Aziraphale couldn’t resist the slightest flame of nastiness that spread through him. “Come on. I want to hear you say it.”
The flame spread through his chest and he thought of his brother’s hideously nasty smile as they entered the courtroom, as the police locked up his shop.
The flame stopped.
Family is more than blood. It’s not something you can articulate in words. It’s bubbles blowing in the wind, leaves that pile together accidentally. Sometimes it’s a tree and sometimes but very warmly it’s a nest. The New York Skyline was framed with bubbles and leaves blew in the early fall weather as Gabriel Fell snorted and sneezed and sobbed his way through all those nasty bodily fluids that he hated and Aziraphale reflected that-
He wanted Gabriel to suffer in doing something that he had done.
He really wanted it.
And what was worse was that his brother deserved it. He deserved to writhe and squirm and...sitting on the park bench staring at the leaves and bubbles and the cosmic chaos that was living, maybe Gabriel didn’t deserve it that much. Maybe no one deserved to suffer over this because he knew just what Beelze Morningstar was and that meant-
“...It helps. If you say it.” Beelze Morningstar went by They/Them. They went to PRIDE, they weren’t a good sibling to Crowley but they knew themselves in a way that Aziraphale expected his brother had never accepted. He let the pain be replaced by a small flower of pity before he buried it, “Because it’s not shameful.” Beelz was born with female parts and took hormones and was a man. Beelz apologized to no one.
Bubbles blew and his brother sniffed. Aziraphale knew it wasn’t his nose as his hand gripped at the bench. Instinct told him to reach for it.
He held back.
“...I’m gay.” Gabriel Fell, district attorney of New York City, possibly future mayoral candidate murmured to the wind and the leaves, “...I am gay or bisexual or whatever but the person who I love is-is them. And they have parts. And I am gay. And a hypocrite. And gay. And-”
The sobs were real this time. His hand tore at the wood. Aziraphale watched him sob with kindness.
---
The park was growing dark.
“...I should be going.” Aziraphale rose, “...I um. You want to. Walk me out to an Uber? I think you have some more to say.”
“We could-”
Somehow the blood on his knuckles wasn’t nearly as healing as his brother’s desperate look of hope that he would stay.
“No. We can’t. But you can walk me to the Uber and maybe we can walk slowly. I want to hear how you two met so I can tell Crowley if he doesn’t already know.”
“It wasn’t after I tried to fuck you over.” Gabriel rose slowly and shakily, “...It was totally by accident. I was at work and one of the-the people - they represented them and we started arguing. Then uh - after the deposition was over they asked me out so we could finish an argument we had about law. And uh-”
“Jesus Christ you know you could be disbarred for that?” Aziraphale stopped and stared at him, “...You have a reputation to uphold and-” Aziraphale stared at him, “...You really are a mess big brother. Like, you are a giant mess.”
“It’s not technically illegal. The case was over and I had to stare at them in the courtroom for hours and hours. You probably saw it. The pop star who killed his girlfriend?” The evidence had been overwhelming, it was an easy win and aziraphale nodded approvingly, “...That was a good case.”
“...They thought so too. And I didn’t know what to do but it-” His brother’s feet hesitated and he stared at Aziraphale like an equal, “...I think the Morningstars could talk an angel into sinning.”
Something about that made Aziraphale laugh hysterically. After a moment Gabriel joined in, hand on his stomach before he turned to his brother and smiled a weak little smile before he shook his head clearly pained by his nose.
“...Does Michael know?” Aziraphale wondered if the other siblings were about to show up on their doorstep as well, “Uriel? Sandy?”
“...You always call him Sandy. Why do you do that?”
Aziraphale paused. The lights were coming on overhead illuminating a fairy world above them as the park began to clear, “...After you left he became my brother.”
Gabriel blinked, “Left? I didn’t go anywhere…?” He paused, “was this about when I went to Spain with mother-?”
“It was after gunpowder.” Aziraphale’s teeth grit, his momentary confusing good feelings turning back to anger, “Your horse? The one she gave you? And you wouldn’t let me pet him and that’s kind of when you turned into a shithead. And it kind of got worse. You and Michael turned into assholes, like that’s what we called you but Sandy said you were mom’s show pony and it…” He stuck his hands in his pockets and gripped his pants through the fabric, “...Well. Gabriel. It made a lot of sense.”
“...I was a pony?” His brother’s face was smeared with blood and snot and confusion, “...Ezra I’m...really confused.”
Oh for fucks sake. “You were her pet! You always sat beside her at dinner, you listened to her every word and you just kind of sat there like some kind of fucking dog and Michael had a debutante ball and you went and you both were like little adults and you didn’t start getting really creepy about religion until she started obsessing about your “future” and-” he gestured, “Show pony.”
“...oh.”
Silence for a moment. Nothing but the sound of two grown men and their footfalls.
“You get that mom was an abusive bitch right?” Gabriel finally spoke, his voice soft, “Like yeah she did charity work and prayed and built churches and stuff but that she really kind of did a number on us emotionally right?”
Aziraphale felt fury fill his chest, “No. shit. When did you figure that out?”
“When I went away to college.”
It was said so casually that Aziraphale had to stop again, “...You let us sit there - and stay and-she-” he wanted to scream. His brother had known she was terrible? He’d chosen that willingly? He had chosen to be an asshole to all of them because-because- his feet hit a trash bag and Aziraphale tried to kick it only to leap back - discovering a metal bar underneath.
“Are you all right?!” Gabriel blinked, “What were you trying to do you’re going to hurt yourself worse than my nose!-”
“I’m just mad. I always kind of figured that you were - that you...you wouldn’t know you were an asshole abuser. That you’d been brainwashed somehow by h-by anybody…”
Gabriel bit his lip and looked away, “...Well. Sorry to disappoint you.” he stepped back and he wasn’t even emotional about it, “...I know I’m capable of bad things Aziraphale. I wish more people acknowledged it. If more people admitted they sinned- to get biblical - they might be willing to fix it. Granted we can’t right now because the churches in America are crap…”
“...You chose to be an asshole?”
“Yes.” Standing under a streetlight, “And...okay now that ‘m in therapy I’ll have to face that but-people are like bubbles. You get one person and you build a bubble and the bubbles brush together and sometimes they pop and you make a new bubble. Sometimes they just brush together but you’d be surprised about how people will protect their bubbles. That’s my bubble. I don’t like germs, I really don’t, I don’t like hamburgers and I still think you’re overweight but I - the former are things that mom got me hooked on, the latter are me being an asshole and ultimately if I can’t cope with it none of my business. So.”
He spread his hands, “That’s it. I’m sorry I’m not some kind of great powerful big brother. My name may be Gabriel but I’m not an angel.” he paused, “And come to think of it you ever think about how the guy was kind of a liar? He kept promising all this good stuff that never happened. I figured that’s why he’s the bad guy in a lot of stuff you know?”
For the first time since childhood, Aziraphale stared at his brother and saw honesty.
Not lying. He couldn’t stand liars and manipulators. Gabriel had always lied and manipulated and relied on good looks and smiles and charm. Standing there under the streetlight he saw a man he did not know.
It was intriguing. It was terrifying.
“Do you need to rest your foot? Could we maybe not do it here?” Gabriel glanced over his shoulder, “...Though I already kind of look like I got mugged…”
“You deserve it.” Aziraphale, Ezra Fell that was, Ezra Morningstar that is, laughed weakly, “The punch. Not getting mugged.”
“...Yeah.” Gabriel smiled weakly, then stared at him, “I meant what I said. I’m running for mayor and I will stay out of your life. You uh-” they were nearing some sort of fence and the city beyond, “...You get to choose, if I’m ever back in your life and if you choose not to I understand and Bee does too.”
“...Bee?” There were tears on Aziraphale’s face now. Not rage filled but genuine sadness, “...That’s unbelievably cute.”
“...Bee chose me.” Gabriel murmured, “At the expense of costing them their brother. That’s going to hurt him I think. You should be there for him the way I couldn’t be there for you.” he paused and licked his lips, “...I should have been there for you. Abuse survival is a funny thing and it’s even worse when it’s insidious like that. When it’s love but it’s not really love you know? It never bothered me. I just sort of ran and hid.”
“I wasn’t brave like you.”
“You think I’m brave?” Aziraphale snorted. His brother all good looks and beauty, the ideal human being staring at him with respect, “You. Of all people? You served in Iraq. I mean yeah okay that’s kind of an-I-”
“The hardest battles are the ones where you are able to be yourself in the face of overwhelming odds.” Gabriel looked skyward, “...To be truly who you are in the face of a world that denies you, even those who are closest to you? That’s bravery. You took me down fifty million pegs and earned me a really nasty call from mother. That was what made me realize how fucked up our family was actually. She said that I wasn’t a son to her if I hurt you. Then I said wait a second, didn’t you raise me to believe that being gay was a sin?”
Aziraphale stared, “Wow. what happened next?”
“She hung up. I haven’t spoken to her since.”
The silence hung between the two men like a shroud. Aziraphale was exhausted. He wanted to go home and order food and sit and watch a bad horror movie with Crowley so he could lean into him during the scary parts. He wanted to cry himself to sleep and be held.
He wanted to confront the idea that his brother in his lofty heavenly apartment would do the same thing tonight with someone else. He wanted to understand why that thought comforted him.
Gabriel sighed, “...I shouldn’t have done that to you. Hid. That wasn’t...brotherly. What I did. I protected myself and I should have protected you. I won’t ever do it to anyone again. Thanks for...teaching me that was wrong.”
His voice shook, “...You deserved a better brother. But.” He composed himself, “You have a great husband. Who has a fantastic-beautiful-spectacular-”
“Bee.” Aziraphale felt like something was ending, staring at him, “Bee Fell. Beelz Fell. I...I like it. You going to marry them?”
“If they let me.”
“And run for mayor.” Aziraphale shook his head, “...Gabriel. You have a chance to do real good for the city. You’re -” He almost said raised to be a pretty face. Raised to be a face. Raised and locked into a society that did not offer room to grow or change or truly be yourself. If Gabriel was a pony he was breaking out of the paddock.
Aziraphale was proud.
He wanted nothing to do with it.
“...You’re a good leader.”
“No.” Gabriel clearly felt it too, “But I’m learning. If Crowley wants to take a few shots at me for Beelz please tell him to come to my apartment and not the office? I’ll keep ice packs on hand.” The “trial” had ended with Gabriel clutching his nuts in pain and Aziraphale laughed aloud at that.
They stood on a street corner at the end of the world.
Their world. There can be more than one world. And what was great was, Aziraphale reflected staring at his true brother - whoever he was - he could choose if he wanted to get to know him. He could see his progress and stand there and help him and love him…
Or he could choose to get into his uber and live his life.
A dark gray towncar appeared first and parked - oblivious to the people honking behind it. The being who got out of the driver’s seat was unbearably short with short cropped black hair wearing a shirt that said Terrytown Youth Group. And pajama pants.
Beelz was wearing Gabriel’s shirt.
“What the fuck happened to your nose?” The being yelled several things before darting back to the driver’s seat to turn on the hazard lights, “...Gabriel? Did you get mugged baby? I-” Aziraphale - face streaked with dirt and tears and exhaustion stared back at them.
Beelz crossed their arms, “You two okay?”
“...I think so.” Aziraphale looked at his brother who was crying again, staring down at him, “...Thanks for telling me. Break a leg when it comes to the campaign. I think - Gabriel will be a great mayor with you beside him.”
“He’d be a great mayor without me.” Beelz took Gabriel’s hand and Aziraphale saw his brother melt at the touch, “...Tell my brother howdy.”
“Will do.”
Gabriel bent to open the car door and Beelz kissed his nose. The bigger being winced,“...hospital first! Good god have you been wandering around the park with a fucking broken nose!?”
“We needed to talk Bee-”
They sounded like Crowley. They even looked like Crowley, wild hair and matted angry expression. He had questions that would never be answered because right now he wanted his husband, his best friend, his one true love.
He found him watering his plants in the kitchen. The botanist turned florist had a home garden set up around their plates and dishes and when he saw Aziraphale standing in the doorway he dropped the watering can and wrapped him in his arms tightly.
“I found the fucking check you fucking idiot where the fuck were you what the fuck did he do to you do I need to kill him-”
“No.”
Aziraphale withdrew, “...We buried the hatchet.”
That was when he began to sob.
---
There is too often a seemingly black and white answer to every problem. Seemingly. Humans like black and white solutions. Good and evil, hero and villain. The only people who like the gray areas in between are the artists and everyone knows the artists are insane by default. Insanity a word here meaning “often misused and misunderstood.” as well as “engaged in trying to see the scope of human existence.”
Making art is an often mastrubatory experience. That one person’s ownership of abuse and terror is another person’s horror and for all the psychological classifications and markers that make up a mind, the hat trick is finding a common thread everyone agrees with. Then humanity falls in line and accepts things. They meet in the middle. They are very gray.
If there is a God, it is a God that demands excellence because they know that’s the way to pushing someone toward a truth and to know truth is to see the scope of reality. It is a God that leaves breadcrumbs and plays an ineffable game because each person who finds one of those hat tricks and lines up the order of the universe is pulling a piece out of the biggest jenga tower in the world.
Perhaps there is a God and God is afraid of the game being over because once the pieces all come down people see the living room and the door and they can choose to leave or pick up a new game and set up new towers or the game of life if you want to get metaphorical. It’s okay to be proud of construction. The thing is people can like or hate what’s been built. That doesn’t change that it’s been done.
You just adjust.
That is what humanity forgets. The ability to adjust. To move their bubbles around each other. It is not okay to be gray. To be gray is not to have a happy ending. Hollywood invented happy endings. Hollywood endings do not exist.
---
Crowley sipped at his tea, “...Fuck Beelz Fell. I wish he’d take our name. Gabriel Morningstar just sounds bad ass.”
“He may.” Aziraphale really didn’t want to think about him anymore, at least for a good long while, “...You don’t sound mad. He was sure he’d be mad.”
“...Look.” Crowley gestured, “It’s not my fucking business what Beelz does with their life. They can have orgies with twenty concubines and chickens or whatever the fuck they want to do.” He sighed and moved to stroke Aziraphale’s hair, “...The problem is that you want to stick your nose in shit that isn’t yours because that’s what your mom wanted. I mean as much as I’ll happily take your brother up on his offer to kick him in the nuts, I won’t. It’s their life. They get to live it.”
“...How do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Just.” Aziraphale curled against him, “Be you. I know this strong front isn’t you. You hurt just as deeply.”
“Yeah.” He sighed, “I do. Only it was my dad that fucking did it. And Gabriel was right. When you’re abused you run and hide and protect yourself and humans never get out of that. That’s why abuse keeps happening because nobody talks about it, nobody acknowledges it and maybe to do so is abuse in and of itself but I just...I don’t care. I don’t care at all. You found me and we connected and it’s our world and our life now. I wish them well.”
“That’s very nihilist and kind of depressing.” Aziraphale kissed his fingers, “...So what should we do?”
“We. Should put on haunting of hill house on netflix. Which is genuinely terrifying and I want you to watch because it’s about a family more fucked up than either of ours and it’s got a lot of ghosts and I want you to leap into my arms so I can feel like a badass.”
Aziraphale laughed aloud, “...That so?”
“That so. Mr. “I punched the District Attorney of New York City”.” Crowley kissed him, “...Now. Go make popcorn. It’s saturday night baby we are going to drink and party and live our life. No one else’s.”
---
Buried deep in the center of the city, Beelzebub Morningstar brought Gabriel Fell a cup of stale hospital coffee and sat beside him.
“You’re wearing my shirt.”
“It’s kitch. I was thinking about painting “Fuck the youth camp” or something on it but I know it means a lot to you. It was very gracious of me.”
“It was.” Gabriel set his hands beside him and sipped at the coffee, “I told him. About everything. He told me some things I didn’t know too. About how Sandy told him I was a showpony?...”
“Your brother is really weird.”
“Which one?” Gabriel raised an eyebrow and shook his head, “No but. The shit he said made sense. It had me thinking like. We live this really rich lifestyle. I mean maybe we could be doing more. That...I should talk with the campaign advisors and see if we could work on something for it. I mean - it wouldn’t make me popular at the country club but fuck the country club you know?”
Beelz leaned against him and tangled their smaller fingers with his big ones.
“...You really will be a good mayor if we win. And even if we don’t you’re a hell of a district attorney.” Beelz leaned into his shoulder, “How’s your nose?”
“Hurts. Gonna have to call Michael and ask them to take over tomorrow. You notice something? Me, Michael, Uriel - I think Sandy is the only straight one in the family? That just hit me. Fuck is that rude? To think of shit like that?”
Beelz laughed aloud, “Being gay is not a secret club Gabriel. It doesn’t have rules or anything like that it’s just...you. And you living your truth. And you choosing to live your truth so broadly is...is really powerful.”
“I’m scared shitless. I’m scared for you, for Ezra, for Michael - that’s everybody. Everybody knows and the world will know and I am-”
His mouth was covered by Beelz’s. Returning the kiss, he whimpered as his nose pressed against their face, “...Ow.”
“Baby.”
The city moved on, a happier sphere then many.
---